Delayed Gratification
by Comana
Summary: Avengers AU where Loki is not apprehended at the end but escapes and takes a certain genius billionaire with him. And hell, Tony doesn't like it one bit.
1. Chapter 1

Soo, this is my first try at an Avengers fanfic and I'm not a native English speaker, so I'm very sorry about every possible grammar or spelling mistake, I'm always happy to get corrected ;)

Aaand I'm very glad about every review I get, be it criticism, suggestions or anything else :)

Disclaimer: I own neither the Avengers nor Loki nor anything other that belongs to Marvel…

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 **Chapter1 - Prologue**

Loki breathed shallowly. That was all he could do to even get a little air into his lungs. He was completely smashed.

 _Quickly, focus or you'll die!  
_  
He began to use his magic for his most urgent wounds. Let it flow to the back of his head to clean out the dent, first sluggishly then more powerful. Pain, but then relief as the pressure eased from his brain and he could think a bit more clearly.

A little more magic to stop the bleeding in his brain.

 _Focus, you can't stop now!_

By sheer luck his spine was undamaged, but as it was, he had enough other problems that needed his attention.  
He let more of his magic flow to his ribcage, to mend the five broken ribs on the left side. His left lung inflated again and Loki hissed in pain, but it became bearable and breathing got easier with both lungs working.

Thankfully his heart was not punctured by any of his broken ribs of which he sported two. But there was the other matter of a broken leg – the one the beast used to smash him into the floor with repeatedly – and of his right hand that also sported two broken bones.

If he didn't want to drain his magic completely, he did not have enough of it left to heal all.

But since nobody seemed to bother to guard him, he settled for setting his leg right and somehow try to escape.

The magic worked and he slowly used his hand to get up – more accurately tried to get up – and sank dizzily back onto the ground – _no,_ into _the ground_ – he still lay in the hole that his body had involuntarily formed in the bottom of Stark's tower.

He needed time to collect himself, but time was a valuable good he didn't have much of. He had to somehow get to the door, nearly 20 steps away, but it seemed like an impossible distance to walk in the moment.

He took some deep breaths to get his blood flowing again.

Where exactly were his enemies? Why would nobody guard him, or were they really stupid enough to hope that he wouldn't be able to get up?

He looked at the door again, so far away, and if he would be a bit more mobile, he would have smashed his hand against his head.

How could he be so stupid?

He really must have gotten a brain injury – he had been focussing so much on that cursed door that the simplest thing to get away didn't even occur to him. He let out an exasperated sigh and felt for his magic. It would be immensely tight but he could manage a teleportation spell.

But not at once.

Before he had to find out about the invasion. Were Thor and his mortal band of freaks able to close the portals? And what happened to the Tesseract? Maybe the whole situation was not as bad as he thought it would be? Maybe he could somehow still get his hands on the Tesseract before Thor would bring it back to Asgard beyond retrieval.

But who was he kidding – his plans had a tendency to go to Helheim and beyond – and he had played with impossibly high stakes. He took three more deep breaths, not truly eager to assess the situation.

He felt a bit better and once more tried getting up. He was able to get into a sitting position, but he couldn't focus and he hurt everywhere. However, he was able to move without fainting.

The debasing thought that it would be easier to just crawl to the exit entered his mind, but he cast it away at once.

He put his weight on his uninjured left arm and heaved himself up, but when his gaze drifted to the exit again, he caved abruptly.

Six figures walked in, effectively blocking his exit route.

He caught himself on one arm, he would not lie in a heap before the mortals.

As they came nearer, Loki knew that the Chitauri were vanquished – their disgustingly smug faces told him enough. He would have to flee then, a cowardly escape but either that or sentence in Asgard. He was not one of those Aesir warriors that preferred death over surrender. In his opinion, it was stupid to not take the possibility of a delayed gratification.

And delayed gratification was what he would get, he thought with a small dark smile.

His enemies now stood before him. He did not know why. Why was nobody holding him still to secure him?

Well, it would serve them right if they wanted to be that stupid.

He formed a new plan, something he learned and practiced all his life. It was a gift not many Aesir had or were able to appreciate, but it had saved him countless times.

There was only the matter of the archer, who had trained an arrow directly at him. And the looming figure of the green beast that made him feel pretty uneasy. He wouldn't survive another round as its punching bag.

He stalled a bit with a few deep breaths. The more unthreatening he seemed to be, the less observant the freaks would be.

He wanted to take everything he could get out of this, and they would curse the day they underestimated him.

He strainedly looked up at the loose half-circle of so-called heroes before him.

"If it's all the same to you – I'll have that drink now" Loki said, not letting his gaze slip away.

And there it was, the archer was slightly distracted and Loki took his chance.

He collected all his strength and lurched. Straight at Stark. He could see the surprised movement of the others and he was pretty sure an arrow was coming in his direction when he reached for his magic and teleported.

It hurt extremely, he didn't have enough magic for him and Stark, and the energy came from his body, but he was alive when he landed on the grassy ground. He was more self-satisfied than he would later admit for managing to remain standing on the ground. Something you couldn't say about his burden. The man of Iron clanged and rattled over the ground until he stilled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Tony saw the world spinning through a haze. He thought the day was shit when he flew the nuclear rocket into the space portal.

When he survived he thought the day was pretty good.

Now he had to reassess again because when everybody thought the day was finally saved – and he had been really looking forward to that shawarma - Thor's whack job of a half-brother tackled him and now he couldn't decide where top and bottom was and wanted to puke really bad.

Finally, the world decided to go from a crazy tumble to a more comfortable sway, and he put his gloved hands on the grass to get up. Wait, grass? He was pretty sure there was no grass in his tower.

But he had to get up nonetheless, because the crazy god had to be somewhere close.

It wasn't easy trying to stand up with his non-functional suit, it weighed a lot and was normally dependent on the power of his reactor.

Just when he pushed up he was rewarded with a heavy weight on his back and his face hit the grass, courtesy of his missing helmet. Just great.

The weight stayed on his back and he couldn't move, his cheek in the grass. He was like a turtle on the back, just the other way round.

Eventually, a voice that he was seriously fed up with by now spoke to him.

"I wouldn't try any of your weapons on me if you don't want your neck to be crushed," it angered Tony even more that he spoke calmly as if they were just having a conversation over tea.

Then he was flipped around and he could finally get a look at Loki. He looked like shit – maybe worse. He had lost something of his superior calmness at his go with the Hulk – no, the Hulk's go with him – and he still wore several cuts and bruises in his face. Not hard to imagine that his leather outfit concealed more of them. Behind Loki, it was strangely green. It was a bit unimaginative, really. They were definitely in a forest.

"Well, Reindeer Games, I wouldn't have thought you for a nature-boy, and I'm sure you could have found better company for going camping if you just tried a little harder," Tony had to say something, anything so that he could put his thoughts in order.

Loki just kidnapped him and teleported away with him, but why? He surely was in deep shit.

If only his suit still worked. Sadly the alien world had drained all his energy and he knew he needed at least an hour until his reactor could supply enough power to even walk properly. And he didn't have any time at the moment.

He could only catch the end of Loki's next sentence.

"… insolent mortal, or I crush you like the ant that you are!" Loki's face was now contorted with rage. He was really pissed right now.

Tony quickly decided that pissed and bruised was a combination one didn't want to experience the crazy god in, especially when one had oneself just thwarted said god's great plans and now lay helplessly on one's back.

Loki's hand grabbed his throat and he slowly squeezed. Tony's hands were at Loki's arms in a second but he could have tried to drive away steel beams, the outcome would be the same.

Black spots entered his view, and he light-headedly asked himself why Loki was using his left hand to strangle him, it looked a bit inept. Loki stopped.

He took his hand back and slightly shook his head once, as if to get an annoying thought away.

Tony gasped for air and drew in some heavy breaths.

"Take the suit of iron off," Loki commanded.

Tony nearly choked on the air. Yeah sure, he would run and give up his last physical barrier and maybe only escape option as soon as Loki asked for it. _So not going to happen_.

"Well, did you even pay attention earlier today? I need this neat machine I built to get it off… you know, the big one with the big wheely bits and…"  
Tony was cut short when he was flipped around again – damn, how could the freak handle his heavy suit as if it weighed nothing – and he felt two of his hidden clasps, very well hidden clasps by the way, being released. Then he was flipped back and Loki opened the other two hidden clasps at his neck. The god grabbed the now loose neckpiece of his suit, making sure to leave some scratches on his face, and threw it away.

"You were saying…?" Loki stayed creepily calm at exposing Tony's lie, but then Tony felt something cold and likely very sharp just under his exposed jaw.

"I don't like being lied to, Stark," Loki continued, pressing the dagger a bit harder against his skin, his face not giving away anything, "and now obey or face death."

"Ok, all right, I faced death enough for today," Tony meant it. Many people knew about his recklessness, but this choice here was merely between life and death, and he liked his life too much to just throw it away.

He slowly lifted his arms – didn't want to startle the man that held a knife against his throat – and opened the clasps at his shoulders, arms and then gauntlets and let the metal fall to the ground on his left side. His right side was engrossed by Loki who surprisingly didn't sport a triumphant smile but just looked worn. And unfortunately alert, otherwise Tony might have tried to start one of his weapons manually, but the dagger on his throat held him back.

Tony hated every second of it, it made him feel as helpless as he hadn't felt in a long time. He had no trick left up his sleeve and he was completely at the crazy god's mercy.

"Ahem, Loki…?," Tony decided not to use a stupid nickname thanks to the dagger, "I need to do the rest standing."

Loki gave him a distrustful look, but the dagger disappeared and he was hauled up. He could barely stand, the strain of the day catching up with him, but he couldn't imagine something more embarrassing than needing Loki to support him.

Nonetheless was the crazy god invading his private space a lot when he stayed behind him and replaced the dagger at his throat. _Great_.

Tony took off the rest of his plates carefully, trying not to breathe too hard and trying to ignore the breath that caught his right ear too closely. He was glad that he did practice putting the suit on and off without Jarvis, otherwise the procedure would have taken hours. When only his boots were left, Loki shifted the dagger to his belly, so that Tony was able to bend to his boots. If Clint could see that scene now, Tony would never hear the end of it, his devil-may-care attitude chimed in.

Tony took the boots off more slowly than necessary, he didn't want to know what would happen next. Loki hadn't killed him yet, but that didn't have to mean anything. You never knew with crazy people, maybe he just wanted to have more fun with him and torture him to death. Or he wanted his suit as a trophy and thought it easier like that than to scrape his dead body out of it. He had heard that the Asgardians liked trophies a lot…

When he opened the last clasps, the maniac just pulled him out of his boots and dragged him with him, as if he was a disobeying child. He got his feet back under him and with that a small spark of dignity back. Nevertheless, the feeling of being beaten stayed as a bitter taste in the back of his mouth.

Funny, how both he and Loki were in the same situation, both beaten only meters away from the finish line.

It was already getting dark and the sun set behind them, so Tony could just see a corner in a clearing a hundred meters away. It was actually a corner, the last remains of a house that maybe fell apart decades ago.

He tried to wriggle out of Loki's hold, because he could walk himself, thank you, but he was just rewarded with an arm around his neck, the dagger at his belly and an irritated "Stop that."

He complied, however he couldn't leave the chance to ask the 100-Dollar-question.  
"So, why am I here? What do you want with me?"

"It is not your place to ask questions," Loki answered – well, actually not-answered – with a bored glance at him.

"Well, what is my place then?" Tony shot back, knowing full well that that was also a question.

"You will stay here and not bother me with your voice."

They reached the corner now and Tony asked himself what Loki exactly meant when he was roughly shoved to the ground. One second later, Loki snapped a shackle around his ankle.

"Enjoy your stay," the mad fucker had the gall to give him a wicked smile before he walked away to whatever lay on the other side of the wall Tony was now chained to.

For one of the few moments in his life, he didn't have a cocky answer to that.

Loki disappeared behind the wall, and Tony was left staring at his surroundings. In the fading light, there was not much to see but for the ruins of the house he was chained to. _Shit_. The freshness of the beginning night reached him and he shuddered. He wore only his black Sabbath shirt and his trousers weren't the warmest either.

The adrenaline faded and he now realized that he had been running on emergency energy only. A deep black exhaustion took him over and he knew he had to sleep or he would faint. He shifted for a more comfortable position on the floor, found none, but was asleep within two minutes anyway, his last thoughts drifting to Pepper.

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AN: So, I hope Tony's perspective was Ok, it was really difficult to write, but also a lot of fun. Let me know what you think :)


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